


The Trouble With Empathy

by DecifurThis



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Gore, M/M, Partial Possession, Self-Harm, Skull Fucking, dubcon, triangle!Bill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:06:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecifurThis/pseuds/DecifurThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the WeirdMageddon, Stan Pines finds himself reunited with a demon itching to make a deal to gain passage back into the physical realm via partial possession. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble With Empathy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [momo0231](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momo0231/gifts).



_Bill Cipher._ Now there was a name Stan could have gone the rest of his natural life without ever thinking about again. Yet here he was, face to giant eyeball with the demon’s effigy. There was probably a reason he was all the way out here in the forgotten parts of the forest, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why. The old man hesitantly reached out to the stone’s outstretched hand before immediately recoiling. Who even knew what would happen if anything touched that stupid rock?

Stan couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he was being. The demon that terrorized his family was long gone. He had personally made sure of that much. But still, the grave site was a little unnerving. Too quiet and secluded. Almost as if nature itself wanted to stay as far away as possible. That alone should have been some sort of sign, but Stan refused to believe that this relic could really shake him up so badly. To prove that point, _at least to himself_ , he firmly took the cold stone hand into his own, horrified that it grabbed him back, fingers slowly lacing together. The world around him bled into a dull grey-scale. Somehow the silence was even more deafening.

Too much time passed, and it only added to Stan’s rising panic. The hold Bill’s statue had on him only tightened. Stan was so focused on trying to pull away that he didn’t notice a hand literally unearth itself, grabbing at the human’s ankle like some sort of second rate cheesy zombie film. “This **can’t** be happening. _You’re dead_.” As much as he wanted to believe that, the fact that Bill was using his leg as leverage to pull himself from the ground was making it really hard to keep lying to himself.

“ _Dead._ ” The demon seemed to be mulling that over. In the meantime, he was dusting himself off, clumps of dirt gathering under his talons. “I’ll admit—- that was some trick you pulled!” In truth, Bill would have been more impressed under different circumstances. Ones that were not against him personally. “The thing about energy is that it never really gets destroyed. And if you would have payed more attention in your science classes, you would have learned all about the law of conservation. But you’re not the smart twin, are you. Though I suppose Fordsy dropped the ball on that one too, seeing as how he is also convinced I’m really gone.”

“So what. Is this some sort of revenge plot? You’re here to settle a score or something?” Stan couldn’t find it in himself to acknowledge any of what Bill was saying. Mostly because none of this was okay.

“I’ve been thinking about how to handle this day since the moment you trapped me in this horrible state of limbo. At first, revenge was all I wanted. But in the years that have passed, I’ve been able to let go of some of that blinding rage. For my own sake, it was necessary. Doing this has allowed me to focus on other things. Like how revenge is too good for you.”  The way he was caressing Stan’s cheek with a comically small hand was bordering on condescending.

Stan felt like his skin was crawling, body growing more numb the longer the demon’s touch lingered. Out of fear of what consequence would come with pushing the other away, he allowed Bill to do as he pleased. Although, his irritation was becoming harder to ignore now that a mostly curious fingertip was tracing his lower lip. “Look, Bill, I don’t have all day. Just do whatever you’re planning to and get it over with.”

Something about that seemed to hit a nerve. “That’s it?” The struggle was always half of the fun! “ _Pathetic._ ”

“I’m too old for any of this. I don’t really have time to be wasting on you and whatever this even is.” Antagonizing the dream beast probably wasn’t one of his better choices in life, but he didn’t have a whole lot left to lose at this point. His brother maybe. But Ford could handle himself. At least when it came to the supernatural.

“Awh, Fez. That’s no way to treat your _friend_.” He was looking down at his hands, playful blue flames dancing around the spindly digits. “As I recall, you don’t have too many of those left! I’d venture to say that you never really had any to begin with!”

Ouch. Stan’s eyes narrowed dangerously, fists balled at his side. It was taking every last shred of will power not to punch the stupid creature in his giant eyeball. Much as he wanted to deny everything, the demon wasn’t wrong. Any outward reactions about it would give Bill too much power. It was probably best to keep this as neutral as possible. “What do you want, Bill.”

“I already told you that I’m here to offer you my friendship.” More or less anyhow. “You could use the company, and I sure could use passage into the physical realm! This is mutually benefiting!”

Of course, Stan’s resolve was wearing a bit thin. “How do you figure! I can’t even believe you’d actually think I’d help you with anything after all the crap you’ve put my family through! That’s some nerve!” Stan was rubbing the bridge of his nose. All of this had to be a dream. A horrible nightmare that he could wake up from, safe and sound in his bed.

Bill seemed unfazed by the sudden outburst and remained quiet while Stan got all of that out of his system. “Here’s the thing.” He held his flaming hand out to Stan. “You’re going to agree to my terms, and you’re going to do it because _it’s what you martyrs do._ You know that allowing me to share a body with you means keeping me in the one place I can’t hurt anyone. Incidentally that means you know that refusing my deal means I **will** go out of my way to make sure the rest of your family suffers for _your_ choice from this point until the end of their days.”

Stan was unable to respond right away, the weight of that truth sinking in, and twisting his insides painfully. His family was finally moving on from the events of the Weirdmageddon, slowly assimilating back into the normalcy of day-to-day life. The last thing any of them needed was to see this triangle again. If accepting this deal meant making sure they could have some peace, then who was he to deny them that? “I fail to see what I’m getting out of this.”

“You clearly haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said. I’m offering you both my company and friendship. And you have no idea how lucky you even are.” Some people would have _literally_ killed for more of his time. Ford included. However it would have been in poor taste to mention that particular detail to Stan.

A snorting noise came from Stan, but regardless, took the demon’s hand into his own, sealing their deal. He supposed it didn’t matter what he would get out of all this. As long as his family remained safe and mentally untouched, that was enough. That didn’t stop him from pulling his hand back as soon as the flames dissipated. It may have been a trick of the lack of proper lighting, but Bill may have seemed a bit hurt by the not-so-subtle repulsion. Before Stan could comment, the world was returning to a more colorful state.

The first thing Stan noticed was the fact he was in bed, and it was single-handedly the most comforting thing to wake up to. But the lack of Bill’s effigy, and the forest was what made Stan decide to write everything off as the worst nightmare of his life, and to take a vow not to eat anything past a certain hour ever again. Especially day-old spicy left overs. Obviously that was the true cause for that horrific dream. It sure felt real though.

‘ _That’s because it WAS real._ ’

Stan nearly jumped out of his skin, the echoing voice shaking him to his very core. “Of course it was.” What a shocker.  “Is this going to be some annoying room mate situation? Because that’s not going to work for me.” He wasn’t really expecting any kind of response to that.

’ _Then what do you want?_ ’

That question caught Stan off guard. Clearly it was a trap in disguise. It had to be. At any rate, he wouldn’t be falling for it. On the other hand, why not play along? “I want to make some coffee and read the damn paper in peace.” Which was true. He was going to need an unholy amount of coffee to deal with the unfortunate direction his life had taken.

’ _Fine._ ’ The rest of the day passed without so much as another word from the demon. It was a little nerve wracking. Stan had in no way expected Bill to actually respect his wishes. There had to be a catch. Bill was not the type to do something for nothing.  

When night fell, Stan found himself pacing the hallway, anxiety making his skin crawl. He didn’t particularly want the demon’s company, but he didn’t trust the silence either. Waiting up for any sort of sign from the triangular menace was proving to be difficult. Maybe that was a thing that came with age. But pulling all-nighters just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. It didn’t take long to fall asleep the moment he laid down in his bed, blankets wrapped snugly around himself.

Not that Stan would ever admit it, he was actually relieved to find Bill in his dreams, sitting in front of a large piano. “Where were you all day?”

“Giving you space. Which. by the way, is hard to do when I’m literally inside of you. But is that not what you wanted?” Bill was resting his fingertips against ivory keys.

“…..” Stan opted not to respond to that, taking a seat next to the demon instead.

“For purely selfish reasons, you really need to learn how to relax. It’s pretty frustrating, you know? To have the ability to manually manipulate your emotions, but having the moral compass not to do the thing.”

It was horrifying to think that everything he’s been feeling since their deal may not have even been on his own volition. The morality bit had to be a joke. Stan forced a smile, playing a few chords on the piano. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the _epitome_ of relaxed.”

“I feel everything that you do, _and it’s exhausting_. Let me help y—-”

“You’re **not** touching my emotions or whatever you wanted to do, assuming you haven’t already.”

“I mean that would make everything so much easier, but that wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

Stan was curious, but Bill didn’t need to know that.

“You realize I felt that too right?” Empathy was the worst human emotion. Becoming a parasite to other monsters was much more ideal. Less of an emotional hurricane, that was for sure. “I know you want to see what I have in mind.”

Creepy. Stan poked at the piano keys, disconnected notes serving only to fill an otherwise awkward silence.

“I know you don’t trust me. But I’m asking you to. At least for right now.” With a wave of his hand, a glass appeared, salt glittering the rim. “Straight tequila. You need it more than me.” It wasn’t Stan’s drink of choice, but he was more than grateful for the offered liquid courage. Bill turned back to the piano, the familiar set of notes nearly enough to make his skin crawl. “ ** _No_**.” That only seemed to spur the demon on, his glow becoming a little more bright.

“Awh what’s wrong, Fez? Fordsy used to love it when I sang to him. _Right before I let him take my metaphorical breath awa—_ ”

Stan was nearly choking on his drink. “Why are you telling me that?” Once he recovered, he downed the rest of it all, silently praying for it to kick in immediately. Bill merely shrugged, humming along to the song he was still playing, which quickly morphed into half-formed, slurred words.  

“ ♫ —– _-I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name  
Don’t want to touch you but you’re under my skin….. _♬ ”

“Oh my god just do it then. Hurt me, or whatever and get it over with.” Stan threw his empty glass across the room, shattering into nearly incandescent pieces in comparison to everything else, including the demon who could quite literally light up an entire room like some freakish, supernatural night light.

“I _don’t_ want to hurt you. Those were just song lyrics.”

“But it’s what you really want, right? That’s what all of this is about. It’s just who you are!” Stan threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m too old to be waiting around for something horrific to happen. Just do the thing so I can move on with what’s left of my life.” He wanted to take all of those words back the moment they escaped him. Watching Bill’s eye widen to the point that his entire eyeball literally rolled down what could only be assumed was a throat to comfortably rest at the back of a velveteen tongue was absolutely chilling. Even more disturbing was how that very eye seemed to watch him from a distance, saliva dripping from each pointed fang, presumably clouding its vision. Bill’s jaw only seemed to further unhinge with each passing second, a split tongue poking out expectantly.

“So you’re going to eat me then?” Bill appeared to be smiling a bit, his tiny hands reaching for the front of the human’s pants as if to say ’ _something like that’_. Stan was squinting, peering into the abyss, which only stared back at him in a pretty unsettling manner as it followed each and every one of his movements. The tugging only became more deliberate, belt hook unlatched and being ripped from each loop with a truly irritating slowness. It was enough to bring Stan back to the absurd reality of it all, and yet he still made no move to stop Bill from whatever end-all mission he seemed to be on.  

To Stan’s abject horror, the only fear he had upon being released from his fabric prison was the fact that plump lips now wrapped around his length were the only thing protecting him from far too many teeth. _Talk about priorities._ “You’re messing with my emotions. You said you wouldn’t.”

“I had to. You wouldn’t let me touch you like this otherwise.” Bill’s disembodied voice was absolutely right, but that didn’t make any of this okay. The demon took more of Stan’s length into his mouth, pleased that it was being coaxed into hardness.

“This is wrong.” Stan felt himself hit the back of Bill’s throat, the tip of his length nudging the demon’s eyeball, now gently rolling against the underside of his head.

“Does that really matter? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Bill’s split tongue was wrapping itself around Stan, who, whether he knew it or not, was very slowly easing himself in and out of the eldrich horror’s eye mouth on his own volition, creating a slow, hardly noticeable pace.

“Only because you’re forcing me to.” Stan’s large hands were now resting on Bill’s general shoulder area, holding onto the triangle best that he could in a desperateness that grew with each passing second.

“I’m not forcing anything on you. All I did was resort your priorities. These emotions you’re feeling are all your own. Somewhere deep down, you wanted this. Which is the only reason I was able to help you act on it.” Clearly this was **not** anything Stan wanted to hear and only responded by thrusting himself deeper into Bill’s mouth. In a way, a part of him was hoping it would be enough to make Bill stop talking. The demon was amused by that very notion, but chose to reward Stan’s sudden enthusiasm in their deed by remaining silent until he finished himself off.

For what it was worth, Bill didn’t comment on how long it took for Stan to cum. Considering all of the human’s reservations surrounding the act itself, Bill was proud of the other. Stan carefully removed himself from the demon’s mouth, a little worried that any sudden, unexpected movements would cause Bill to turn on him.

“I literally just swallowed your parasite inducing penis yogurt. Do you honestly believe I would go _that_ far to impress someone I plan to murder. Please. Get on my level.”

Stan was already in the process of trying to stuff himself back in his pants, fully prepared to wake up.  He had more control in the waking world, and that was **exactly** what he needed right now. Some semblance of _normalcy_. “I don’t know what to expect from you.” A hand on his wrist ceased all of his movement, against his better judgment.

“But isn’t that half of the fun?” Slowly Bill’s eye came back into focus, lips snugly wrapped around the orb now. Probably for the better that Stan couldn’t really see the way the demon’s serpentine tongue was licking at the back of his own eyeball, making sure to get every last drop of human filth. With a little effort, Bill climbed onto the piano’s music stand, legs spread. “If it’s control you want, _ **then take it.**_ ” Naturally everything was some sort of test, but Bill wouldn’t be entirely disappointed if Stan actually took him up on it.

Bill was leaning back further, one hand reaching between his own legs, a single digit poking at the shockingly soft, fleshy texture now giving way to the curious touch. “ _Oh woe is me_. So **exposed** and _helpless_.” He added a second finger, making a show of stretching his own hole for Stan.

“Seriously?” There was no real word to describe what Stan was feeling in this one moment. “ _Why are you like this?_ ” A part of him didn’t even want an answer to that.

But of course, he was going to get one. “Because there’s nothing wrong with being self-indulgent.” For emphasis, the demon began to fingerfuck himself, a thick neon blue goo coating the digits, his entrance slick with even more of it, practically begging for attention. “This would be more fun if you indulged me.”

Stan would forever tell himself that he was **only** doing this to make Bill stop embarrassing himself. And for no other reason. _Honest._ Before Bill could make some sort of sarcastic side comment about that, Stan was biting the bullet, shoving himself into probably Pandora’s Box.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Bill was arching off of the music stand to meet the other’s thrusts, grabbing hold of the chain around Stan’s neck.

Was it? To Stan’s surprise, whatever was between the demon’s legs hadn’t attacked him. If anything, it seemed…. _alive_. And generally friendly in nature, multiple thin tendrils coiling around his length with a pleasant warmth, squeezing just the right amount. “ _I think_ ….”

Bill tugged on Stan’s chain a bit more, closing the distance between them, offering the human what felt like a butterfly kiss just below his ear. “Don’t. Just go with it. And by that, I mean ** _fuck me like you hate me_**. Get it all out of your system because _next time_ , I **won’t** be so _generous_ with you.”

….Next time? Stan tore the chain out of Bill’s grasp, dropping both of his hands behind Bill, knuckles white from the sheer grasp on the edge of the piano. “You make it pretty easy to hate you.”

“Good. Now channel that. If you’re going to make me feel something, then make it count.”

And that’s when it hit him that none of this was doing anything for the demon. A part of Stan would have normally felt guilt about that, but then he remembered that he didn’t even want any of whatever this was in the first place.

“You don’t actually mean that.”

This mind reading thing was obnoxious. In his annoyance, Stan’s thrusts became slower, more deliberate, taking the time to truly experience the moment.

Bill’s hands were now resting on either side of Stan’s face, eye upturned in glee. “Your frustration is _delightful_.” His tone was practically a purr, teasing without the usual malicious undertones. Despite his general indifference towards the entire situation, he seemed genuinely content with their time together. One could go as far as say they were closer some how. And not just in the physical sense of the word.

“Yeah?” As much as he wanted to hate the demon, and gods above knew it was easy to, his personality was…. not quite charming, but _almost_. “Well, I’m glad you seem to think so.” Stan could feel himself nearing the edge, breathing becoming heavier. Amidst his plethora of sudden emotion, Stan suffered from a momentary lapse of judgment, leaning forward just enough to press a kiss below the demon’s eye. Before he could start apologizing, Bill had grabbed hold of one of the humans wrists, squeezing hard enough to feel the slightly erratic pulse just below tender flesh. In his own moment of weakness, the demon slipped his hand into Stan’s.

“These hands have crushed entire civilizations, yet they can’t even properly hold your own.” Bill was so distracted by the very irony of it all that he hadn’t noticed Stan’s entire form tense up. The next thing he knew, the older man was struggling to pull away from him, the tendrils inside seeking to re-obtain contact. Finally he looked down, watching Stan stroke himself, small beads of disgusting human fluid gathering at the tip. “So are you done or….?” His question was answered by globs of it dripping down his general chest area. Bill would have been offended, but for the first time since their deal, he felt completely sedated.

“Oooh man, you should really see your face right now.” Stan was laughing, and it was absolutely infectious. “Just warn a guy next time you disgusting—-” Bill sighed, climbing off of the music stand, tiny feet padding along the keys with dull thunks. He watched the human move away from the piano entirely, walking across the room to where the shards of the margarita glass remained this entire time. Stan knelt beside the pile, plucking the largest jagged piece.

“You don’t have to clean that up, you know?” But it would have been too exhausting to bother elaborating on the finer mechanics surrounding the mindscape and how it all works. A sudden, sticky warmth was welling up in the center of his hand. Upon further inspection, it was blood. “What are you doing?” _ **It felt so good.**_

Stan was wincing, continuing to dig the edge of the glass deeper into his own skin. “You have issues with personal space, and I have issues with being in debt to someone like you. This is more your style, right? _Consider us even._ ” It took a minute to catch onto the fact that this was Stan’s way of thanking Bill for helping him relax. Stan was indulging his masochistic side, knowing full well that the demon was going to feel everything he did.

“While I appreciate the sentiment of returning the favor, you really don’t have to go through all this troub—-”

“I **want** to.” Stan was licking at the palm of his own hand, trying to make a show of it, the way Bill had done earlier. His efforts were rewarded with a very satisfied moan. This was not the direction Stan expected his life to go, but all things considered, it wasn’t the worst option either. At least his family was safe. That was what really mattered. But as for himself? There was a certain comfort that came with knowing he wasn’t really alone anymore. For now anyway.

Friendship was weird. _**Parasitic**_ for damn sure. _~~But not entirely unpleasant.~~_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted on my Tumblr : http://decifurthis.tumblr.com/post/141475694861/the-trouble-with-empathy


End file.
